


Thick Walls

by Lion_owl



Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (1963)
Genre: Deleted Scene, Established Relationship, LAFDOTY insert, Leela and some lafdoty OCs make a brief appearance near the end, Other, Telepathic Bond, also some fluff happened cos that i AM good at, could possibly be rated teen but i'm erring on the side of caution, doesn't lean heavily on the bond but it's there, for context you should possibly read that first, pre-smut/fade-out since i'm not good at actual smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:07:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27580466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lion_owl/pseuds/Lion_owl
Summary: (deleted/missing scene fromLast and First Dances of the Year)In which Alistair and the Doctor steal out of the crowded house at dawn and head to the TARDIS for some privacy
Relationships: Fourth Doctor/Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart, The Doctor (Doctor Who)/Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	Thick Walls

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Last and First Dances of the Year](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22176088) by [Lion_owl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lion_owl/pseuds/Lion_owl). 



**_1 st of January, 07:29_ **

He wakes a ridiculously short amount of time later, to find the Doctor leaning on his elbow, staring at him.

“You're wide awake,” he notes. “Can't have been more than three or four hours since we got to bed.”

“That's all I need, you know that,” the Doctor reminds him, reaching out and caressing Alistair’s cheek. “But you don't need to be awake, if you’re tired. I don't mind just watching you sleep.”

“How can I possibly sleep,” Alistair begins, “while you are projecting such lewd images?”

“Oh, sorry,” the Doctor says. “I was getting a bit carried away. I'll try and think of other things.”

“No, don't stop,” Alistair says, tugging him down and rolling them both over so the Doctor is straddling him and can feel _exactly_ how Alistair feels about the Doctor's thoughts. "You're getting me excited as well. We can get some more sleep afterwards."

“I like that plan,” the Doctor says, rolling his hips against Alistair's and leaning down to kiss him.

The sound of someone moving about in another room makes them both freeze.

“Oh, we were going to–”

“Yes, right–”

“TARDIS.”

They pull apart, getting off the bed, retrieving and sorting their clothes from last night, discarded in a single heap over the chair.

“Bit odd, getting dressed when we're about to…” the Doctor says, grinning.

“Yes, but we've got to _get to_ the TARDIS first,” Alistair says, giving the Doctor a pointed look because now the cheeky bugger is _deliberately_ projecting images that are making it very difficult for Alistair to resist the urge to tear every scrap of fabric between them to shreds. “I'm not going outside in my pyjamas and you're certainly not going outside in your underwear.”

“No, of course not,” the Doctor says.

Once both decent, they head out onto the deserted landing and make their way downstairs as quietly as possible. Alistair takes one of the spare keys hanging by the front door and lets them out into the crisp, winter morning air, locking the door behind them, pocketing the key, and gesturing for the Doctor to lead the way.

Once clear of the house, they link hands, letting their arms swing freely between them as they walk, rather briskly, along the woodland path.

“Here we are,” the Doctor says as they approach the TARDIS, digging around in his pocket and producing a key.

The moment the doors shuts behind them, now that they have complete privacy to make as much noise as they like, Alistair launches himself at the Doctor, and is met with equal enthusiasm. They kiss desperately, moans escaping them both, hands roving all over each other.

He stumbles slightly in the hurry, and they nearly fall into the console, but the Doctor manages to steer them around it towards the door leading further inside, clothes so haphazardly thrown on now falling off again, leaving a trail towards and through the next door, the one to the bedroom they share whenever Alistair's onboard, which the TARDIS has conveniently moved next to the console room.

He still finds it bizarre that the TARDIS can actually move rooms around, but right now he's grateful for alacrity it grants them as they tumble together onto the bed...

~

Afterwards, the Doctor fetches a couple of damp flannels, and they stand close together, tenderly cleaning each other up a bit, before climbing under the duvet, still naked, and curling up together, satiated, and quickly drift back to sleep in the warm glow.

**_1 st of January, 11:58_ **

This time when he wakes again, Alistair feels much better rested, and the Doctor appears to be asleep still. He isn't, Alistair knows, but he decides not to disturb him.

Instead, he turns on his side and buries his face in the Doctor's neck, and lies with his eyes closed, listening to his spouse's calm breathing.

“We should probably have a shower and head back soon,” the Doctor says eventually.

“Must we?” Alistair groans, far too comfortable for such nonsense.

“Well we could stay for a few days and then try nipping back in time to this morning,” the Doctor points out.

“That's a risky strategy,” Alistair says. “Very tempting, but probably not the wisest move.”

“I didn't think so,” the Doctor says.

Reluctantly, they drag themselves out of bed and make for the shower, not rushing too much over getting properly clean and dried, and then dress in fresh clothes and gather up all of yesterday's, chucking the lot into a washing machine.

Alistair retrieves the Doctor's scarf from where it's been flung across the console – which, _really_ , he thinks, it must be around six or seven metres long, so how he manages to not trip over it constantly is a mystery – and loops it over the Doctor's shoulders when he approaches, thinking fondly of when the Doctor had wrapped it around both of them in the early hours of this morning. Okay, so maybe the absurd length of it does have its benefits.

“Thank you,” the Doctor says, drawing him into a gentle kiss.

~

“Is Alistair still not down?” Mhairi asks. “It's nearly lunchtime, this isn't like him.”

“No sign of that strange friend of his, either,” Aunt Patricia notes. “I hope they're not getting up to any funny business. Perhaps I should go fetch him.”

“I'll go,” Morwenna says quickly, hopefully not _too_ quickly, getting to her feet from where she's sat beside Leela, before Patricia can, runs up the stairs and knocks on his door.

“Alistair?” she tries calling when there's no answer, knocking a little louder.

Still nothing, so she puts her ear to the door. She can't hear either him or the Doctor talking, nor any sounds that might indicate any ‘funny business’ going on.

Mhairi's right, it isn't like him to get up this late, so she tries the handle. It isn't locked, so she pushes the door open, slowly enough to give them a chance to notice before she would see them.

All remains quiet, so she opens the door fully and steps into the room.

It's empty.

She steps out and closes the door again, and heads back downstairs. “Nobody in there,” Morwenna says. “No idea where he is.”

Speak of the devil, as they say – at that moment, the front door opens, and seconds later, both Alistair and the Doctor appear in the living room.

“There you are,” Mhairi says. “We were starting to wonder about you.”

“Apologies, I should have left a note,” Alistair says. “We just went for a morning stroll, had a lot to catch up on, you know.”

“No worries,” Mhairi says. “Well, lunch will be ready in about fifteen minutes.”

**_Later that afternoon_ **

“Should we go?” the Doctor asks later, while they're sitting together on a bench at the end of the garden, largely obscured by a row of apple trees.

"Go where?” Alistair asks, though he knows exactly what the Doctor means, the words need to be said.

“I mean me and Leela, should we leave? I have noticed that we don't seem to be entirely welcome.”

“Don't worry about Pat,” Alistair says, resting his head on the Doctor's shoulder. “Most of them don't pay her much mind when she gets like that.”

“If you're sure,” the Doctor says, resting their own head against Alistair's.

“I'm sure. I love you and I won't let her being a silly old cow get in the way of spending time with you.”

“Good, because I love you too, and I don't want to leave just yet,” the Doctor says. “I don't think Leela or Morwenna want that either.”

“I've noticed,” Alistair says. “I still can't believe Morwenna and I never knew about each other.”

“Still, at least you know now though?”

“Yes, we do.”

“Good.”

The Doctor reaches for Alistair's hand, and he lifts it to meet his, threading their fingers between each other's, and then they lower their joined hands back down to rest on his leg.

They both close their eyes, letting contentment radiate between them.

**Author's Note:**

> comments & kudos always appreciated!


End file.
